


This is your humanity

by salvatorestjohn



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, Fluff and Angst, Humanity Switch (Vampire Diaries), M/M, Mentioned Elena Gilbert, No Smut, Past Torture, Psychopaths In Love, Rough Kissing, Sexual Tension, Surprise Kissing, Teasing, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvatorestjohn/pseuds/salvatorestjohn
Summary: "Oh, absolutely," Damon agrees, nodding as he keeps his own expression serious and Enzo continues forward. "It really seems like one of those things we should probably talk about, work it all out through verbal communication. Lots and lots of verbal communication."Enzo hums as he takes that last little step forward, bringing them close enough that Damon can feel the unusual warmth — for a vampire, at least — from his skin. It feels strange to have him so close, and yet, completely normal. It always felt like he was right beside him in that cell, rather than separated by two feet of brick and stone. Now he can at least see him; the tiny flecks of what looks like gold inserted between the almost innocent brown that a part of his mind, for a split second, replaces with red, and dark veins skittering up underneath his skin."Yeah, talking about it sounds like a good idea," Enzo says, smirking back at him as he dips his head.





	This is your humanity

**Author's Note:**

> I have finally written a TVD fic! Of course it's for these two, because like I seem to be saying a lot recently: I am predictable. I will go down with this ship in all its angsty feelings. Now, I hope you enjoy these two crazy idiots exploring that "something" (in a PG way, of course). Here's hoping that when they finally catch up to Wes, he doesn't happen to inject a certain someone with the Ripper serum, making him want to kill the person helping keep his humanity on. That wouldn't be so good for a relationship, I imagine...

The body in Damon's arms goes limp. The last of the nameless man's energy finally drains away as Damon sucks the last few drops of blood left out of him. He'll be honest, it's not that great.

For one, he and Enzo spent about twenty minutes trying to convince the guy to just step outside so that they could kill him, which, obviously didn't go down so well. He was going to switch to the trust compelling tactic but Enzo stopped him; turns out, he managed to miss the scent of vervain coming from the guy despite how clueless he seemed to be about Vampires. Enzo finally managed to get him to invite them in by asking if they could use his phone. Damon can't help but be surprised and exasperated that that actually worked.

It's not only how annoyingly difficult it was, but the guy's blood itself isn't as... filling, as it should be. It's bitter and smoky, like he's sucking down mouthfuls of ash thanks to the beer that he obviously drinks on a regular basis judging by the empty bottles scattered around the chair and in the kitchen.

Damon usually tries to steer clear of alcoholics for this exact reason. He and Enzo have been on the move for just over an entire day though, and this is the first real meal he's managed to get his hands on, so he's keeping the complaining to a minimum.

Satisfied that there's nothing left for him to feed on, Damon pulls his fangs out of the guy's neck and lets him fall to the ground with a thud. He drags his tongue along his bottom lip, most of the taste that clings to his lips coming away with it. The blood may not have been as tasteful as he could have used, but it was certainly still more satisfying than a squirrel or fox would have been. Bad human blood is still blood.

"Thanks for leaving some for me."

Damon rolls his eyes. He turns to face Enzo, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth and he moves a hand up, swiping his thumb along the bottom of his chin, catching a few stray drops of blood before they can escape. 

"There's still some left if you want a taste." He brings his thumb up to his lips, licking the dark-red liquid up with the tip of his tongue as he raises his eyebrows. "Fair warning though, he isn't that great."

Enzo's the one rolling his eyes now. He pushes away from the door frame, letting his arms drop to his sides.

"Your loss," Damon says with a shrug. His eyes move back down to the body at his feet. His lips twist down now in displeasure, sighing. "Guess we should clean this up. You wanna burn him or ditch him in the nearest waste bin?"

"That is entirely up to you," Enzo says, crossing the room. Damon's eyebrows draw together and Enzo returns his smirk. "He was your dinner, so you can take care of the dishes."

Damon squints at him in disbelief, throwing his hands out. "What happened to this teamwork thing we had going on?"

"Have fun," Enzo says, ignoring him as he stops next to him. He eyes the body on the floor, along with the puddle of red created when Damon first sunk his fangs into the guy's neck. "Just make sure to clean that bloodstain off the carpet. Wouldn't want that little brother of yours finding us because you got sloppy. Literally."

Damon scoffs as Enzo turns back to him. He pauses, just staring at him, his face thoughtful. Then he brings a hand up, taking his face between his thumb and forefinger, and pulls him in. The kiss lands with ease as Enzo presses forward, his lips surprisingly gentle against his own. 

There's a split second of surprise where Damon's eyebrows go up, having thought Enzo had shot down his offer as a joke. He brushes it off and leans into it, kissing him back. The rich, iron taste still lingers in his mouth, but he can feel the traces of it left behind clinging to Enzo's lips instead. 

He's almost relieved at getting rid of the taste, more so when Enzo's tongue slips through for a quick second. Just long enough to drag across his own before darting back out between his lips, taking the last hint of the smoky blood with him.

The satisfaction that settles in Damon's chest is momentarily knocked away by the sharp sting in his bottom lip.

Enzo pulls back, now the one with a smirk tugging his mouth up. His lips are tinged red and a spot of fresh blood sits on his bottom lip. Damon quickly brings a hand up to his own, swiping his thumb along it before pulling back to check. 

He scoffs, moving his eyes back to meet Enzo's with another raise of his eyebrows. "Was that necessary?"

Enzo considers his answer for a good few seconds as he drags his tongue along his lower lip, the blood going with it. 

"I'm hungry," he says with a shrug. He eyes the body on the floor and makes a face of displeasure. Then he's walking away and out of the house, leaving Damon alone in the middle of the small living room that seems to act as the bedroom as well.

He stares after him, shaking his head slowly. Despite himself, a hint of a smile curves his lips. He won't admit it out loud, because that would be way too much of an ego boost for Enzo, but he's missed him. At least a little bit. 

Damon catches himself, frowning. It's the only feeling apart from hunger, annoyance, or that thrill of satisfaction he gets when he's feeding, that's managed to slip its way through in days. Maybe longer; he's lost count of when exactly Enzo convinced him to join him in the search for Wes since Elena has made it clear she's done with him. He supposes it makes sense that old feelings would resurface now that Enzo's back and he himself is Elena-less, as Enzo put it. 

Shaking it off, he turns back around and looks down at the body again. With a sigh, he mutters a reluctant, "alright, let's get you out of here," and bends down to grab his arms. 

It takes a little longer than he'd like to dispose of the body. Even with Vamp speed, digging a shallow hole in the back garden is tiring and not how he'd like to be spending a Friday night. As soon as he's thrown the guy's body in and covered it back up, he takes care of the carpet. One thing he is beginning to hate about being on the road with Enzo is how thorough he's insisting they be to prevent Stefan from tracking them down. Or Elena.

No matter how many times Damon tries to tell him that neither of them even want to see him, never mind willingly seek him out, Enzo doesn't listen. It's becoming a real problem considering he's had to deal with the last three bodies on his own while Enzo either waits in the car or stands back and watches with that smug look on his face.

"Alright, next time we get hungry, we're stealing blood bags from the nearest hospital," Damon says as he slips into the passenger side. He pulls the door closed and turns his head to look at Enzo, met with an arched eyebrow. "The clean-up is not worth the meal. He wasn't even good."

"You drained the poor sap," Enzo points out in amusement.

Damon rolls his eyes. "Yeah, because I hadn't eaten in over a day. At least you got a bite from that waitress in the diner a few miles back."

"Hey, I offered to share," Enzo says, raising both eyebrows at him now. He turns his eyes back on the road. "Unlike some people in this car, I'm a thoughtful and generous friend."

"Okay, if that was supposed to be a _subtle_ dig at me, you failed since we're the only two people in this car. And — quit whining." Damon grabs his seatbelt and yanks it over him, clipping it in place. "If you're that hungry, you can have some of my blood when we get to the motel, alright? It's not like you didn't already help yourself anyway."

"Ooh, blood sharing?" Enzo says, his voice taking on a teasing tone. "Getting kinky now, are we? Can't say I'm surprised." He shoots Damon a glance. "I always imagined you to be into some interesting things."

Damon rolls his eyes at him but can't help the half-smile, half-smirk that spreads across his face. "Just drive."

The sky's dark by the time they find the nearest motel; it turns out, Enzo was relying on directions he got from the waitress he made into a snack, and apparently, she doesn't know the town as well as she said. They pass a sign on the way. 

Damon can't say for certain if he's glad that they only have fifty miles left. This whole "enacting revenge" thing they have going on sort of dies with Wes, which means that their little road trip does as well. The thought of Enzo leaving isn't one that he's fond of, even if when he first showed back up, he wanted nothing more than for the constant reminder of what he did to him to disappear from his life.

They pull into one of the only empty spots in the parking lot before heading inside and getting a room for the night. It's a nice enough motel. The wallpaper's not peeling and there isn't dust on the furniture, so no red flags for the most part. At least Damon can be about eighty-percent sure they're not going to get murdered in their sleep. Not that they would be the ones coming out of that any more dead than they already are. With the way Enzo keeps complaining, he's beginning to worry for the poor girl behind the reception. Here's hoping her shift ends before Enzo gets any hungrier.

"Two rooms or one?" she asks as Damon leans against the desk. There's a politeness that comes with having to talk to people all day in her voice, but it's mixed with some sort of genuineness to it though, a smile on her lips.  

"Er..." Enzo glances at Damon in silent question, met with a nonchalant shrug of a shoulder. He turns back to the girl. "One will be fine, please, love."

The girl nods and types that in, checking the available rooms. Damon leans a little further across the desk, attempting to be discreet. He cranes his neck enough to try and get a glimpse of the screen. All he gets is the keyboard, the girls long, thin fingers flying across the keys, a blur of yellow from the bright polish coating her nails. 

The tell-tale burning sensation of being watched has him flicking his eyes back over to Enzo. He raises his eyebrows. Damon rolls his eyes but pulls back. He throws a glance over his shoulder, absentmindedly picking at the wood of the desk. 

"Okay, we have a room with two twins or one with a double," the girl tells them, looking up from the computer. 

Damon doesn't miss the glint in her eyes as he turns back to her. He'd be lying if he said he doesn't find her obvious assumption amusing. He can't really blame her though; he and Enzo did walk in mid-argument, bickering in a light way that ended with Enzo jokingly threatening to sneak off in the middle of the night and take the car. Damon had grinned, leaned in a little closer to knock his shoulder and said that he needs him too much to do that. Enzo's response had been a roll of his eyes accompanied by a light chuckle and a shake of his head. To her, it probably seemed like the typical old-married-couple bickering. 

Smirking, he leans his arm on the top of the desk, his lips parting as he goes to answer her. He doesn't even get one word of _we'll take the double_ out, having been going to say it mostly just for a reaction.

Enzo beats him to it with a noise halfway between a snort and a scoff. Apparently he's just as amused. 

_Maybe a little too much._ Damon shifts his gaze to him, his eyes narrowing,

"We'll take the twins, thank you," Enzo says without missing a beat, as if even the idea of them sharing a bed is laughable and utterly out of the question. Damon's head tilts, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at him _. And yet the thought of blood sharing is completely acceptable._

"Okay," the girl says, drawing the word out as she types something else into the computer. Then she's turning to grab a set of keys out of the box behind her and handing them to Enzo with a smile. "Enjoy your stay."

Enzo gives a smile back in response, nods, then turns to Damon and inclines his head in the direction of the hallway leading up to the rooms. Damon straightens up and starts walking with him. 

They find the room and go in, Damon closing the door behind them as Enzo flicks on the lights. They jump to life without so much as a flicker, instantly brightening up the room. 

"Well," Enzo walks further in, stopping near one of the two beds before turning back around to face him, "at least it doesn't look like anyone's been murdered here recently. That's a good sign."

Damon gives a slight breath of a chuckle in agreement and moves towards the other bed. Slipping his jacket off, he flings it to the bottom of the bed without a second thought. He then shoves a hand into his pocket, digging his phone out as he flops back onto the bed, landing with a slight bounce. 

The screen lights up as he rests his head against the long, wooden headboard behind him. 

A part of him has the urge to groan at the "No Service" message up top. It's no surprise. Another part of him tries to push down the stab of something closely resembling bitter disappointment in the pit of his stomach, rising to the back of his throat. He locks it again and tosses it to the bottom of the bed. 

"Expecting a call from your girlfriend?" Damon doesn't even need to look over at Enzo to know that he's got that infuriating little sideways smirk on his face. It comes through in his voice.

"Not my girlfriend anymore, remember?" Damon says, his smile empty as it stretches his mouth. "Guess that's what happens when you cling to revenge. It comes back to bite you. For once, not literally, much to my relief. Always a silver lining."

He looks over at Enzo now, catching him already staring at him with raised eyebrows and that look that's a mixture between judgy and pitiful and has him reminded of Bonnie. Strangely enough, it actually makes him miss the witch. Just for a second. Then Enzo's making a noise in the back of his throat and turning away from him, slipping his own jacket off.

"What?" Damon asks, his eyes narrowing. 

"Nothing," Enzo shakes his head, folding his jacket up, "I just don't remember this version of you. It's so..." he pauses for the right word, "... _self-pitying_. Defeated. It's actually quite sad, if I'm honest, watching you walk around like a puppy who's just been left in a cardboard box on the side of the street."

Indignation rises up in his throat at that, something else trying to claw it back down. "I'm not... _self-pitying._ I've accepted it, and I'm moving on. Though that's a little hard to do when you won't stop staring at me like you're expecting me to break into a million pieces. I'm not made of glass, Enzo, I'm a Vampire."

Enzo rolls his eyes and gives a halfhearted, "alright then," and goes to leave it at that. He throws his jacket onto the bottom of the bed as Damon scowls at him. 

"No, not _'alright then.'_  You're the one who convinced _me_ to come along with you on this little revenge scheme, so why are you acting all cagey all of a sudden? It's like you're worried I'm about to go off the rails or something."

Enzo pauses. He arches an eyebrow at him. "Are you?"

"Oh my god — _No_ , Enzo," Damon swings his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself up, "I'm not. Look, I know I may not be the most emotionally hinged vampire to exist, alright? I accept that. But I'm also not about to start tearing off the heads of every random stranger I come across just because Elena dumped my ass for, may I just say, a perfectly valid reason. That's Stefan you're thinking of. I understand the confusion but come on, I expect better from my best friend."

Enzo stays quiet, considering his words, looking at a spot somewhere on the floor, or the bed, he just knows that it isn't his eyes. Damon doesn't give him the chance to add anything else, his exasperation and annoyance finally flaring up now that Enzo's dragged him into it.

"And — if anyone here is making questionable decisions and not acting like themselves, it's you with that little move you pulled on me back at that house." He's aware of the pulse in his bottom lip as it throbs, a reminder of the slight sting, accompanied by the tingle in his lips. 

"What _move_?" Enzo practically scoffs, eyeing Damon. 

"You know what move. Kissing me? Wanna talk about that at all, maybe figure out what you're trying to avoid by making dumb decisions? We have all night and another fifty miles on the road tomorrow, so, please—" he waves a hand at him, "—feel free to delve into your feelings instead of trying to psychoanalyse mine."

Enzo rolls his eyes at him and Damon is positive he's thinking the words, "Drama Queen," even if they don't come out of his mouth. He knows what to expect with him by now, even after being apart for so many years. Being held in cells right next to each other for five years helps you get to know a person a lot more than most would expect. 

"I'm not avoiding anything," Enzo says, and Damon actually does scoff at him, exaggerated disbelief accompanied with a humorous smile. "You flirted in your typical Damon-like way, so I responded. There's really nothing to analyse there."

"Oh really?" Damon prompts, his eyes narrowing at him once more. 

He pauses, and he finds himself hoping that maybe Enzo will take the bait. That's what it is after all. He knew it before he said it. Maybe Enzo's right, maybe he's trying to suppress whatever emotional turmoil or some other human type crap that is going on inside of him because of the breakup by making bad decisions and not thinking. In his opinion, his head's never felt clearer.

Enzo holds his gaze, and he catches that spark of curiosity. Intrigue. The expression on his face shifts into something a little more playful, knowing, the pieces fitting together.

"Well, maybe I was a bit quick on the jump there." Enzo shrugs, taking a slow step towards him, then another. "I guess it could use a closer look at. Just to be sure there's nothing to analyse or anything, as you said. Would be a shame if there was something there and we missed it, don't you think?"

"Oh, absolutely," Damon agrees, nodding as he keeps his own expression serious and Enzo continues forward. "It really seems like one of those things we should probably talk about, work it all out through verbal communication. Lots and lots of verbal communication."

Enzo hums as he takes that last little step forward, bringing them close enough that Damon can feel the unusual warmth — for a vampire, at least — from his skin. It feels strange to have him so close, and yet, completely normal. It always felt like he was right beside him in that cell, rather than separated by two feet of brick and stone. Now he can at least see him; the tiny flecks of what looks like gold inserted between the almost innocent brown that a part of his mind, for a split second, replaces with red, and dark veins skittering up underneath his skin.

"Yeah, talking about it sounds like a good idea," Enzo says, smirking back at him as he dips his head.

Damon catches the unspoken understanding and grabs it without hesitation, something vaguely resembling a sense of built-up relief washing over him, settling in the pit of his stomach. His hand moves quickly, landing on the back of Enzo's neck and pulling him in the rest of the way until their lips meet for the second time in a day. It's met with what Damon would dare call eager reciprocation, not even a beat passing as Enzo's mouth moves with his, pressing back a little harder.

Enzo's hands slip down, his fingers curling into Damon's hips, and he more than happily lets him push him backwards. Vamp-speed kicks in and they're on the bed in the blink of an eye, their mouths never leaving each other even as Damon's practically pinned underneath Enzo's body.

Uneasy with him having the upper hand, he quickly flips them over. That familiar rush of letting his control slip seeps into him, flames licking at his skin. Enzo doesn't try and protest with their repositioning. He adapts right away, one hand stretching up Damon's back, fingers pushing at the edges of his t-shirt that rides up on the way. 

A part of him is glad that Vampires don't blush that badly, because as a human, that heat would be turning into a lovely tell-tale flush, running from his cheeks down his chest. Katherine would always tease and joke about it while pressing lips and teeth to the red-tinted skin. Even as a Vampire, it can happen, just not as often. Elena barely noticed, so wrapped up in the rest, but smiled in that secretive way when it became obvious, pleased. 

They break away, their breaths coming out a little faster, but don't stop for a beat. Enzo's already in the process of tugging Damon's t-shirt up, making him pause in his own movements long enough to help before its thrown aside without a second thought. Then he's diving right back down, their mouths connecting again, his hands trying to find their place and slipping from the side of Enzo's face down to his chest.

A shiver runs up his spine as Enzo trails the tips of his nails directly up his back, digging in just hard enough — the way that Damon isn't even surprised that he knows he likes — until his fingers are tangling in his hair. 

He uses it to his advantage, pulling him away slightly with the gentlest of tugs in a momentary pause. Damon doesn't protest, taking the second to collect himself. Slow and steady, and drawing things out as long as he physically can — which he has discovered many times over is far longer than most of his human companions can keep up with — is his speciality. 

There's no reason to rush things, and it's not like he wants it to be over and done with. If anything, he wants to savour every second. taking his time to make sure it's all properly embedded in his mind. Enzo could easily up and leave once they've dealt with Wes, and he wants to have something other than feeding together to remember. To cling to in a way that he won't admit he's been doing with all those echoing conversations.

Slow is a lot more difficult to do, however, when Enzo's staring up at him in a way that has him wanting to practically devour him without a second thought. There's an almost urgent tug in his stomach and chest, telling him this is his one chance and he better not waste it. 

He's gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes that are almost entirely black, the thin ring of brown the only evidence that he isn't slipping. His smile is what's getting to him. There's a softness to it, as well as around his eyes, a gentle curve of his lips that Damon hasn't ever seen on him before. It's frustrating because it's giving him the urge to kiss him senseless but also keep it in place, and the swooping in his stomach is making him mad at himself for reacting like a love-drunk teenager.

"Hmm," Enzo hums, a smugness joining his features, mixing nicely with the satisfaction and something Damon wants to think is fondness. "I like that look on your face. I almost feel special."

His joking tone is clear between them, cutting through any possible doubt that was starting to form in their pause. A slip of sincerity makes it out as well though, and Damon latches onto it, more curious than anything.

Ever since the first night that he was thrown into that cell and Enzo talked to him for hours on end to keep his mind on anything other than what lay ahead of the both of them, he'll admit that it's as if he's carved out a piece of him. It's been years, and yet, even when he thought he had left his only friend to burn alive and was long dead, that piece inside of his chest remained, though heavier and almost empty at the same time. 

He rolls his eyes, pushing the feeling down. "Don't get used to it. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, so if I were you, I'd hurry up and take it."

"Damon Salvatore's bossy in bed, who would have guessed?" Enzo smirks up at him, a flicker of something in his eyes. "Any other surprises?"

Damon easily returns the smirk, a tiny bit more mischievous. His eyes flick down in an obvious way, savouring the surge of satisfaction he gets at Enzo's quickening heartbeat, knocking against his ribs loudly through his heightened hearing despite the neutral expression on his face. He looks back up, their eyes locking.

"I guess you'll just have to find out."

Enzo seems to like that answer. He leans back up, his lips meeting Damon's in another kiss that has his head spinning as they quickly slip back into their movements from before.

There's a tiny voice in the back of Damon's head, whispering to him as his fingers stroke against the underside of Enzo's jaw, relishing in the feel of his hand exploring his back as slow as he knows how. It asks again if Enzo really is right, if he's making a mistake by throwing himself into reckless, stupid acts simply because he got his heart broken. If he's about to screw up whatever possibly salvageable connection he and Enzo have left after years of not-quite-hatred and guilt between them. 

He's about to pause again, that doubt already starting to creep its way through him, worrying him in a way that throws him off his guard. But then Enzo makes a quiet noise against his lips, and the hand on his back is resting on his shoulder blade, fingers dancing, feather-light, across his skin, and he's leaning up into him in every way he can. 

He can feel the beating of his heart, a steady yet fast rhythm, pressing into his skin from every pulse point; from the rough pads of his fingers, to his lips, to each subtle rise of his chest. With it comes a sense of something; it's warm and content-like, soft around the edges even if a little jagged. A sense of some sort of big-build-up finally coming to its conclusion and as if he couldn't be happier about it. 

Damon feels it, too. It's there, nestled deep in his chest, the wait finally over. Since the first time Enzo stopped him from slipping. When every single part of him was searing with a pain he had never experienced before even when he starved himself to near desiccation and Enzo's voice was the only thing keeping him going. It's been there. This isn't a reckless misjudgement he's making via a broken heart, it's something he's wanted for years. 

He doesn't question himself again. He leans into every touch and every noise from Enzo, every brush of his lips against his own or along his cheek, down his jaw and neck. The cool hands on his skin, mapping every curve and muscle and the invisible scars that only he knows are there from when he would ask Damon what they did to him so he could tell him how long it would be before they healed.

Enzo rolls them over in the blink of an eye, taking back his earlier advantage. Damon doesn't even try and get the upper hand again. The way that Enzo looks down at him when they break apart for a momentary breath — a mischievous, satisfied edge to his features as he hovers inches above him — is more than enough to convince him to stay right where he is. 

His mouth quirks up at the corners as he catches sight of the slight movement underneath Enzo's eyes. "Still hungry?" he asks, teasing and raising his eyebrows at him.

Enzo closes his eyes, inhaling, and the veins sink back beneath his skin. "Just the, er..." he swallows, almost sounding breathless, "...the adrenaline and all that. You know how it is."

"Oh, I do," Damon agrees, grinning now, his stomach swooping. "Which is why my offer's still on the table, you know. I quite enjoyed that previous kiss, even with the biting. I actually think I liked it more because of that."

Enzo peers down at him through his lashes, a look of confusion but curiosity hidden in them. "You were serious? You want me to feed on you?"

Damon shrugs a shoulder lazily, raising one brow at him this time. "Why not? We'll both enjoy it, and you look you could use it. I'm beginning to think you barely drank a drop of that waitress."

"We were in a bit of a hurry if you hadn't noticed," Enzo says, bordering on defensive. He drops it there though, his attention obviously not able to stray too far from the thought of Damon's offer, and one that he really hopes he's going to take up. It might simply be a necessity for Enzo, but he's already imagining the high it's going to leave them both with. 

Enzo takes a second, staring at him, obviously thinking it over. It barely takes a few seconds for him to come to his decision; Damon's going to take the half-smirk, half-smile that slowly spreads across his face as a good sign. 

"You do know that sharing blood, as Vampires, is the most intimate thing we could do, right?" he asks, but it's clear by the tone of his voice that he just wants to hear him say it, already knowing.

Damon decides to give him what he wants. "I'm well aware of that. So...?"

Enzo doesn't seem to need any further encouragement. Damon feels the smirked curve of his lips against his neck, nudging his head further back against the pillows underneath. He happily obliges, rolling his head to the side. 

His eyes flutter halfway closed out of anticipation alone, waiting for that distinctive feeling. Even without looking at him, he can sense the shift in Enzo; the pupils of his eyes no more than slits swimming in the centre of blood red while veins crawl up his face as if like desperate hands reaching out for what they crave most. 

His own hands mimic that thought, one slipping to the back of Enzo's neck as he practically melts underneath the feeling of his very blunt, very human teeth grazing his skin. _Always the tease._

"The clock's ticking," Damon manages to breathe out, tone sing-song like. "Better hurry up before I change my mind. You'll have to go chase down that nice girl at the reception."

Enzo's lips brush the spot just beneath his ear. He drags his teeth along his lobe, a shiver shooting right up Damon's spine and nearly causing him to arch up, much to his own irritation. Enzo knows exactly what he's doing, and Damon's almost wishing he didn't know exactly what buttons to push to elicit the reactions he wants. Almost.

"Bossy and impatient," Enzo murmurs, the smug lilt to his voice making it clear that it didn't go unnoticed by him. "I'm seeing so many new and interesting sides to you, Damon Salvatore."

"And I'm beginning to regret not sharing that guy," Damon says, not meaning a word of it. Even with Enzo taking his time and teasing him, and making his head spin from the anticipation and how well he knows him, it's all worth it. Just being like this with him, though it'll never leave Damon's lips, is what he wants. 

"Hmm," Enzo hums, his mouth still so close to Damon's ear that the noise sinks into his skin, travelling up to cloud his mind and tickle at every possible nerve it can reach. "But then this wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable for either of us."

Before Damon can even think about getting another word out, there's a familiar, sharp sting of pain in his neck. The sensation is quickly replaced by one of complete and utter pleasure as Enzo's fangs sink deep into his neck, already sucking at the trickles of blood escaping. 

The hand he has on the back of Enzo's neck tightens the tiniest bit, his insides sparking alight. The burning jolt in his neck quickly spreads, travelling through every inch of him it can, like gentle caresses all over his skin, inside and out. This is far from his first time letting another vampire feed on him like this, but it's still just as overwhelming each and every time, if not more.

Enzo's hand slips up to the side of his neck, fingers curling around to the back. It's surprisingly gentle despite it almost feeling like he's trying to hold him in place. His thumb pushes gently underneath his chin and Damon instinctively tilts his head back further, as far as it can go. 

It only has Enzo pressing closer, his face and teeth buried in his neck. It sends another shiver shooting right up Damon's spine. His eyes close completely as he lets out a low, quiet moan, and doesn't bother to stay still this time. 

The sensation of Enzo feeding from him clouds his mind, softening the edges of everything and yet sharpening it at the same time. There's a tug somewhere low in his stomach and his chest, and he gives in, letting that pull take hold of him like he hasn't in a long while. Being with Enzo is so easy; he can be himself without having to worry about losing some sort of control, knowing that there isn't any part of him that could scare him off. Not after everything. 

As if reading his thoughts, Enzo pulls his fangs from his neck, leaving him with an almost instant chill that threatens to overtake all of his senses. It's worth it when he looks at him and his gaze is met with those red eyes that he's been imagining, the slight crackle of black veins beneath. His lips are parted ever so slightly, inhaling and exhaling quick bursts of air, the gleaming points of his fangs just barely visible. It's the shine of the dark red coating them that's got his attention.

A few drops have strayed from the rest, slipping from the corners of Enzo's mouth, down towards his chin as if he got a little carried away. The thought has Damon's stomach twisting, and he's positive that, human or not, his own skin is most certainly taking on a nice shade of red of its own, almost trying to envy the blood — _his_ blood — on Enzo's lips.

Enzo smirks down at him, but it's not the usual one that Damon's gotten used to in the short time that he's actually been able to see him rather than separated by that brick wall back at Whitmore. It's almost got a softness to it. Damon's alright with marking it down as already being a little woozy from the blood; he'll be heading right into that buzz of the high that's bound to kick in in another few minutes. 

"Am I eating alone?" he questions, lifting both eyebrows in a lazy gesture of teasing him. 

Relief settles in Damon's chest. He's shaking his head before he can even comprehend what he's doing, his mouth curving up. That seems to be answer enough for Enzo as he leans back down, his mouth positioning over the same spot on his neck. He doesn't let his teeth touch him again though, settling for pressing his lips against the now sensitive skin.

That's more than enough to spur Damon on. He's already in the process of slipping a hand under the collar of Enzo's shirt, a part of him cursing himself internally for not having ripped it off the second that he kissed him. His fangs have already pushed themselves out from his gums, his jaw aching with the thought of what comes next. Then he's pulling Enzo impossibly closer and letting his teeth pierce the skin between his neck and shoulder. 

The blood flows right away from the two small holes his fangs create, a thin trickle at first before Damon starts sucking as if coaxing it out. As soon as he does, a sharp sting shoots up through his neck and shoulder. It only intensifies the burning jolt of pleasure that tears through him at feeding on Enzo, mixing with that of the sensation of Enzo's fangs being, once again, deep in his neck as he drinks. 

Euphoric is the only word Damon can think of to describe it in that very moment, as dramatic and _love-drunk-teenager_  as it makes him sound. He's fed on other vampires, had them do the same, and yet, even when those times got to the most heated point they physically could, they could never compare. Not to this, to this feeling of letting himself slip, to being at possibly his most vulnerable with a person who has seen him at his absolute lowest aside from his own brother. To feeling more in control and yet at ease, and completely and utterly himself than he has in a long time with anyone. 

Even more so than he did with Katherine, the only other person who has been able to make him feel even remotely like this before. Except with Enzo, it's so much better in every way possible, and he's relishing in the knowledge of that. 

A moan is pressed against his neck, into his skin, slipping through the two pinhead sized holes in his neck and into his veins. With how little he's been doing this lately, a part of him was beginning to forget just how intense bloodsharing makes everything. It's like the notch on his already heightened senses has been turned up to full blast before being yanked right off.

There's a slight shift in the air surrounding him and an emptiness in his neck, indicating the departure of Enzo's fangs. It's less noticeable with his own still happily lodged in his skin, halfway between his ear and his shoulder, drinking slower now but enjoying how the liquid warms his throat on the way down with that sweet taste trailing behind, lingering in his mouth like syrup. The greater the pleasure, the sweeter the blood. A spark of pride settles deep in his chest. 

"You're certainly enjoying yourself," Enzo murmurs, the words pressed just beneath his jaw. Damon feels the way his mouth curves, hears the soft edge to his voice that's filled with amusement. There's a breathlessness to it as well that has him following his lead. Enzo makes a noise as his fangs leave his neck, "I didn't say you had to stop."

Damon pauses, quickly regaining his own breath as his tongue darts across his bottom lip. He swipes it along his fangs as an afterthought, swallowing the traces of the taste.

"You barely got any human blood," he reminds him as Enzo lifts his head, looking down at him. Damon locks their gazes. "If I keep going, I'm gonna end up draining _you_. I don't feel like having to find Dr Wes, the freaky vampire torturer, on my own because, admittedly, I'm probably gonna need some backup with the psycho."

"Oh, so it's not because I'm your best friend and you'd feel any sort of remorse over killing the one person who actually likes you right now?" Enzo counters, raising an eyebrow at him. His voice is bordering on teasing, and combining that with the blood still dripping from his lips is a little too much for Damon to process. 

Still, he raises both his eyebrows in turn, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a lazy, soft sort of smirk. "You like me?"

Enzo rolls his eyes without missing a beat. "Slip of the tongue. I meant to say I despise you."

"Too late," Damon says, his own voice taking on an almost sing-song like lilt, his smirk growing. "You _like_ me."

"Beginning to make me regret it, too," Enzo says, then sighs, "Yes, Damon. I like you. Is that what you want to hear? I have _feelings_ for you and have since the good old Augustine days. I assumed the bloodsharing made at least part of that fairly obvious. My mistake."

"Oh no, it was obvious," Damon says. He gives a lazy shrug of a shoulder. "I just wanted to see if you'd say it again."

Enzo stares at him as if he wants to glare but doesn't quite manage. "You're unbelievable."

Damon grins up at him, the taste of his blood still clinging to his tongue. His eyes flick down to Enzo's lips at the reminder. There's a slight itch under his skin, beneath his eyes, and he knows that those veins are crackling, clawing their way to surface as his stomach swoops and clenches. He just barely resists the temptation trying to pull him forward.

"I guess it's a good thing that bossy, impatient and completely unbelievable is just my type," Enzo adds, catching his stare with that softness to his voice despite the almost begrudging way he says it. "Who would have guessed?"

"I suppose spending five years with no one else to talk to will do that to you," Damon jokes, absentmindedly reaching a hand up into the space between them. One stray drop of blood has finally decided to make its escape, drawing his attention. He swipes at it with his thumb as his smile slips the tiniest bit. "I'm just surprised spending fifty-five years hating me for leaving you there didn't knock some sense into you."

Enzo goes still and Damon thinks he's crossed back into dangerous territory. It wasn't even a slip of the tongue, he knew what could happen if he voiced the thought out loud. He just couldn't stop himself; the weight of it has been slowly building on top of him since he found out Enzo was alive. 

He lifts his eyes back up to meet his, but he isn't met with that cold, unreadable, distant look telling him he just self-sabotaged something good yet again. There is a flicker of something closely resembling a stab of pain at the mention of their past, and the exact reason they're even heading to Richmond in the hunt of Wes. But it's brief and his features quickly soften into something more like disbelief.

"I didn't hate you, Damon," Enzo says, shaking his head, his words an echo of the ones he had said to him just a few weeks earlier with a crack in his voice and shining eyes. 

It still has the same effect, even without the rise or hurt in his voice, making Damon's stomach clench again. 

"I couldn't, you know that. You were all I had. Part of me refused to let you go, even after fifty-five years of wanting nothing more than for you to just... come back, but knowing you wouldn't. Hoping you wouldn't so that I could at least think that you were free and that some part of it was worth it."

Damon stays quiet as Enzo's gaze drops from his eyes, falling somewhere on his chest instead. It's easier than trying to apologize, something he knows Enzo doesn't want. The past few days were apparently enough for him to give him even a tiny bit of forgiveness, accepting his explanation of why he did it and leaving it there. 

He notices he's let his hand linger on the side of Enzo's neck. There's nothing he can do to fix what he did, not now. Still, that feeling of wanting to try doesn't just magically disappear with that knowledge. His thumb rubs slow, gentle strokes along Enzo's jaw as he lets his eyes fall closed for a brief moment, internally cursing himself. 

As if reading his mind, Enzo clears his throat, making Damon opens his eyes to look up at him. There's a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, even if they don't quite reach his eyes as he gives a quiet chuckle.

"Some would call that true love, I suppose," he says, his voice joking but also not. He catches his eyes, locking their gazes. "And others would say I've gone completely mad. Can't decide which one is more accurate."

"Personally, I think you're insane," Damon says, and Enzo raises both eyebrows at him without much effort in the gesture. He pauses, and something inside of him comes tumbling down. It's not a hard realization. More of a soft understanding. "But I'm... sort of hoping those first ones are right. For entirely selfish reasons, of course."

Enzo smiles at that, brighter than the hint of one he had been wearing before. "Of course."

"So, that's bossy, impatient, unbelievable, and selfish." Damon narrows his eyes. "Sure you're up for that? Most sane people would have jumped out of bed a while ago."

Enzo inhales, and Damon feels something settle inside of him. Whatever it is, he wants to keep it there for as long as he can. He keeps his eyes locked with Enzo's as he leans down until their faces are mere inches apart and Damon doesn't even bother to resist letting his eyes flick down for a split second, receiving an amused look in turn.

"I thought we already established I'm not sane," Enzo says quietly, the words barely leaving his lips. "I can handle any side of you, Damon Salvatore. But please, feel free to try and prove me wrong. I'm curious to know what else I've been missing out on."

Relief once again takes its place nestled in Damon's chest. He breathes out, a smile taking over his lips, and he is more than happy to accept the challenge. For once, he'll be glad to lose, which he is certain he will just by the way that Enzo's looking at him, and how his fingers are still stretching over his chest, and just because he _knows_. He knows Enzo, and Enzo knows him. That's all he needs. 

Finally, he leans up, his mouth back on Enzo's in a second. For the second time, Damon finds himself met with an eager reciprocation that has his head spinning and the blood running through his veins — now partially Enzo's blood — warming, the heat quickly rising to his skin as well. A part of him can't help but enjoy knowing it's his own blood he can taste on Enzo's lips, on his tongue.

Taking the opportunity now before he regrets it again later, he drops his hands down Enzo's back. His fingers curl around the hem of his shirt, fumbling for just a second before successfully yanking it up and off with a slight pause in the kiss. Enzo's diving right back down before it's joined Damon's somewhere on the floor. 

He presses into the kiss and Damon doesn't even try and protest, letting him lower him back down until he can't anymore and the space between them ceases to exist. A part of him is waiting for him to make some sort of joke or quip about how he should add submissive to that list, but it doesn't come. It's obvious by the way that his mouth is moving with his and the slow, gentle strokes of his hands against his skin that his full attention is already occupied. 

At least Damon thinks it is until Enzo pulls back barely an inch. His head lifts slightly off the pillow beneath him, wanting to pull him back in as he looks up at him. Enzo's eyes stay closed, leaving Damon watching the way his features shift and his lips tugs up. They're tinted red, a spot of blood clinging to his lower one even now, and it takes Damon a second to realize he's talking, his voice quiet even to his supernatural hearing. 

"Not to ruin the moment, but either there's something inside of this mattress which would be deeply disturbing, or your phone just buzzed against my leg," he says, his lips brushing Damon's as he leans back down towards the end. He doesn't kiss him again though. Damon can feel the hesitation just from touching him, and even if he couldn't, the slight strain in his voice was enough to tip him off.

He throws a glance towards the end of the bed, where he tossed his phone without a second thought. Sure enough, it's blinking up at him with that insistent little green light, though the screen thankfully remains black.

"Do you want to check it?" Enzo asks, his voice tight and close to being despondent as if he already knows the answer. "Could be Elena. Maybe she's—" he inhales, obviously already regretting the words before they leave his mouth, "—come to her senses."

Damon's eyes move back to Enzo. His head's turned more to his left, away from him, his eyes now open and staring at the bed with a blank look and his jaw set. It's that look of expected disappointment, knowing this was inevitable and he was simply biding his time until reality set in. 

"Well, I've already come to mine, and I agree with her decision to end things," Damon says, slow and pointed. Seeing Enzo expect him to jump at the chance to throw him to the side to get back with Elena makes his stomach turn and hurts something deep inside of him. He can't really blame him for thinking so little of him. It's something he would have done in the past for Katherine. 

Enzo's eyes widen a fraction, barely noticeable as he shifts his gaze back to his. "Really? Don't even want to... see if she's willing to give things another shot?" His expression and voice are both wary, choosing his words carefully. "I thought she was supposed to be the love of your life or something equally as nauseating."

"I've spent way too long chasing after the so-called loves of my life," Damon admits, shaking his head. "I know I have forever and all, but even I'm getting a bit tired of this whole doppelganger thing."

The chuckle his words pull out of Enzo only add to the sincerity of them. Even if he wasn't positive until now, he knows that it's the truth. One-hundred-and-sixty years of his life have been spent on two women from the same bloodline, and even with all of the good moments weaved in between, it's been exhausting. 

"Let her and Stefan fulfil their romantic fated love story," he adds, rolling his eyes. "Either way, I don't want to check that phone and I'm not gonna. So—" with a quick nudge of his foot, the phone clatters off of the bed, landing on the floor, "—relax and go back to kissing me. It was a lot more enjoyable."

Enzo glances off the bed with raised eyebrows, shooting a Damon a look of something close to amused disbelief. He doesn't protest, just gives a shake of his head and seems to accept his answer. Still, Damon feels like he needs to say more, needs to make sure he understands what he's saying.

The hand laced through his hair slides to the side of his neck once more, fingers hooking under his chin and turning him back to face him, locking their gazes. The smile on Enzo's lips falters.

"I'm not leaving you again," he says softly. "Not like I did fifty-five years ago — not for Katherine, not for Elena. I won't abandon you again. I'm _staying_."

Enzo blinks at him, his eyes shifting back and forth. Damon waits, letting him seek the assurance he needs to know he's being sincere. A beat passes then his features relax and that hint of a smile returns. He nods, letting him know he believes him, and Damon lets himself relax along with him.

Inhaling, Enzo grins, only to let the breath back out in a chuckle. "Well, this certainly went a lot different from what I was expecting."

"What," Damon's mouth settles into an easy grin, "heart-to-hearts aren't your thing? You never used to shut up, going on about _true love_ and how you always had to have hope that things would work out. It was weirdly inspiring and motivating after hours of torture, but I honestly think that might just have been your accent."

Enzo rolls his eyes at him and Damon's stomach swoops at the fondness to the gesture. "I'm just not used to you being the one to make the big declarations and get all soppy."

The smile he wears is telling Damon that he does not mind one bit. He can't even bring himself to care that within less than half an hour, Enzo has managed to turn him back into that love-drunk idiot he was back in 1864. For once, he doesn't have the constant urge to rip something apart because something's gone wrong, or he's had an argument with Stefan or Elena for the millionth time in one day, or just because things never seem to work out. He's more than happy to enjoy it while it lasts, even if it is the most human thing he could possibly do.

"There's that look again," Enzo says, the volume of his voice slipping back down to that soft breath and successfully pulling Damon from his thoughts. His smile grows, as much as it's obvious that he tries not to let it. "You know, I think you're ruining your own reputation with all of this. Aren't you supposed to be the big, bad vampire that doesn't care about anyone?"

Damon holds his gaze, dragging his thumb along the edge of Enzo's cheek. "Well, I say, screw reputations. This is a lot more fun." He pauses, the instincts that he's ingrained into himself since Katherine telling him to leave it there. "And not caring hasn't exactly worked out that well for me in the past, so. Figured it might be a good idea to give it a shot, see what all the fuss is about. How am I doing so far?"

Enzo leans down until he's barely two inches away from kissing him, from Damon being able to simply tilt his head the tiniest bit forward and do it himself. He lets a beat pass, Damon holding in the air in his lungs for nothing other than anticipation. Obviously achieving whatever goal he had in mind, Enzo's expression takes on a mix of pure joy and satisfaction before he allows those two inches between them to vanish and their lips meet for what has to be at least the tenth time in the last however long it's been. It still has Damon's already sensitive senses kicking into overdrive. 

"I'd say you're doing pretty well," he murmurs against his lips, and Damon not only hears the teasing tone in the lilt to his voice, but can see it in his eyes. "For a supposedly humanity-less vampire, of course."

"Of course," Damon repeats softly, a hint of a smile pressing into Enzo's lips.

"Just..." Enzo pauses, the rest of what he was going to say seemingly getting caught up somewhere in his throat. He closes his eyes for just a flicker a second with a sigh, and when he opens them again, Damon can see the worry in them. An open sort of vulnerability that he's not sure he's ever seen anyone other than his brother trust him with. "Don't turn it off again. Please."

Damon's heart and stomach do such human things; jumping, and clenching, and filling him with this need to make sure he's never the cause of the pain in Enzo's voice over those words ever again. It's so utterly _human_ , something he would have felt with Katherine back in 1864, and it feels _good_. Not because he has a desire to feel human again, but because it's so easy to be able to without forcing himself.

Holding Enzo's gaze, he gives a slight shake of his head, and in the most assuring, determined voice he can, says, "I won't."

And he means it. Usually he would be saying how he can't make any promises, everyone knows who he is and shouldn't expect anything else from him. It works, most of the time, even on his brother who seems to have given up on him long ago, and Elena, who doesn't know whether it's worth it after the same argument gets repeated over and over again.

Except Enzo knows who he is. Enduring hours of excruciating torture did a number on Damon more than once in the five years they were locked up together, as it did with Enzo. He'd talk to keep them both distracted, ask questions about Damon, his life, his deepest regrets, things he wishes he had done as both a human and a vampire. It's not like he had much else option for conversation, and even when Damon didn't answer for the first few days, seeing it as pointless, Enzo continued to talk. Until Damon gave in, and they spent five years getting to know each other through a wall in a way that no one else in their life seems to have been able to.

Enzo would never accept some self-pitying speech about how he's a bad person and he just does bad things because that's who he is, he won't change. And Damon can't bring himself to even try and use it on him either, because not only can he see right through the act and would absolutely call him out without hesitation, but Enzo is the only one who doesn't expect him to live up to any expectations, to always do the right, moral thing. He also doesn't expect the worst of him. 

All he wants is for him to keep his humanity. To _stay_. 

Damon refuses to lie and say he won't even try when, in truth, he can't imagine turning it off with Enzo ever again. Doesn't want to, either.

Enzo takes in a breath, the relief at his promise showing on his face for a brief second. Damon's the one who kisses him this time, tilting his head up until their lips aren't just brushing but moving with each other. Something's different. 

He can't pinpoint it, but even the air feels as if it's shifted somehow. The kiss is slower, careful, even, and yet... comfortable. Even the touch of Enzo's fingers against his neck are soft, the tips dragging over where the two holes he had made were. 

Damon leans into the touch without really thinking, his own hands tracing over Enzo's skin, lingering in one spot for a few seconds. They're both at ease, and Damon is almost thrown by that realization. That everything feels... normal. Right. Like it could go on for hours, and they'd both be more than happy to let it. 

It's possibly the most human Damon has felt since becoming a vampire, but also the least. An odd perfect balance of the two. Caring with Enzo is easy, and good, and everything just feels as it should for the first time in a long time. He's not turning his back on him again, that he knows for sure. This is what he wants, and keeping his humanity on for it is definitely worth it.


End file.
